Tales of the Past Series
by Alecca
Summary: Along the years the vampire foursome of Angelus, Darla, Dru and Spike have been through a lot. This series tells some of the adventures the vampires have gone through along the years
1. Decadence

Title: Tales of the past: Decadence  
Author: Alecca  
e-mail: kitana_m@yahoo.com  
Summary: Story from the past (duh!) A night in Dublin with Angelus.  
Rating: R?   
Pairings: Angelus/Darla, Angelus/other.  
Spoilers: None here.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Angelus or Darla, they belong to Joss & co.  
Feedback: Begging helps. So please, pretty please?   
  
  
1755  
Dublin, Ireland   
  
He walked silently through the streets, making no noise,  
lurking in the shadows. Moving like a panther stalking his prey, but  
not tonight, he found no interest in the humans flowing between the  
tight spaces of the houses of the rich. It bored him. Everything did.  
The rich, stuck up women of the high class didn't even tent him like  
the whores and maids of the taverns. He was a vampire for more then two  
years and nothing compared to their blood.   
The weak light of a few torches burning besides the walls  
made him feel uneasy, he could be spotted by humans, the women smiling  
mysteriously in the dark at the sight of him, while young girls  
giggled and blushed. He moved slowly trying to ignore the sounds and   
the pulse of the city, but found it impossible, the smell of blood   
followed him everywhere, tenting his every desire, taunting him with   
its sweetness. He released a deep growl from his throat. A man near him   
moved, startled by the sound, letting out a curse for the damn dogs. He   
hated and loved at the same time his constant need for blood. He   
remembered astonished how in his years as a human he use to see the   
fluid on which his life depended on now, as a normal liquid that   
sometimes caused him pain, especially after a good fight.  
Even if he hid it from Darla, he still craved her blood,   
like an infant that still wanted to drink from his mother's breast.   
When they were in bed she let him bite her a bit, when they went over   
the edge. It was like reconstructing the night he became a vampire.   
Their sweaty, naked bodies covering each other, completing one another   
in an euphoric entanglement of lust and blood. His head pressed against   
her breast, gently draining her blood, his deep growls invading the   
emptiness of the house, while her moans were a soft, low melody under   
his chest. She always bit into his neck after him, their growls   
intensifying, melting into a shuttering sound that scared away the   
horrified servants. She stayed there covered in a sheen of   
perspiration, not moving, the proof of their mating deep inside her   
core. Her thighs spread so he could see her, her eyes drawing a lazy   
path across his body. He trembled at the memory of her naked flesh   
sitting across the ravaged sheets, a half sleepy gaze resting in her   
deep yellow eyes. He gathered the coat closer to his skin as if a chill   
had overcome his body. He began moving faster to get away from the   
tormenting images.   
The torches began to give out, only a dim light crossing the   
faces of the people on the streets. The crowd began disappearing, only   
few people remaining. The creatures of the night, the pick pockets and   
thieves, roaming the streets in search of victims. Stray cats crossing,   
distracting the eyes of the people. He couldn't understand Darla's need   
for the blood of the rich, it was so sour it made him sick sometimes.   
For him the sweetest would remain the taste of decadence and misery.  
A young pair was strolling alone a few feet away from him. He   
smiled when he realized what bothered him about them. The boy was   
human, but his companion was a vampire, she stank of immortality and   
lust. Blood lust, it was something that grew in the air, thick like a   
fog, covering body and mind. He followed quietly behind. The blond girl   
smiled while she lead her victim in an alley.  
"Where's the tavern?" the man asked in a semi-drunk voice   
holding on to her waist, staring at the wall at the end of the alley.  
"'Tis a secret, my lord," she whispered bringing him closer to   
the wall behind the alley. He looked intrigued at the dead end.  
"Where, girl?" he asked puzzled. Her face turned to her   
demonic state and she plunged her fangs into his neck pushing his body   
into the wall. His eyes went wide looking blankly at the bricks as his   
body was constantly smashed into them. Blood stained the wall. As   
Angelus watched the young vampire kill its prey his hunger grew inside   
him at the sight and scent of it. A rush of lust for the young immortal   
crossed him and he growled. The vampire heard him and turned abruptly,   
leaving to fall to her feet, the body of the man- his eyes wide, a tear   
sliding down his cheek as the last shred of life drained from him, his   
hand staining the dress of the vampire as he clutched on to it as a   
last effort to hold on to humanity. She looked down at him with no   
emotion, just a slight sense of disgust in her eyes. She moved, his   
hand leaving a bloody print on the velvet dress. She grabbed him by the   
hair, her features turning human and pushed him backwards, his head now   
resting in his own blood. She turned to face Angelus, but turning she   
saw only an empty space. Her blood covered mouth turned into a grimace   
as she moved away.  
Angelus stayed there for a few moments, watching her puzzled   
features. She could feel him, but not see him. With a sound of   
disappointment she moved quickly up the wall. From the roof of the   
house he watched and followed her, trying to make no noise. He found   
himself in the bad side of the city. He closed his eyes at the familiar   
smell of rot, sex and ail, his human years of youth. He lost interest   
in the vampire and entered a tavern. He knew Darla would taunt him with   
this for months, but didn't care, she had her high society parties and   
noble victims, he could have what he craved and missed.   
The bitter taste of smelling bodies, filled his senses as   
he entered the tavern. All heads turned towards him. He was dressed   
like one of the rich. He ignored the stares and sat down at a table and   
a young girl put a glass of ale in front of him. He looked at the half   
dirty glass and knew it wouldn't taste the same. Unless..., he sighed   
and emptied it. It had no taste for him, he couldn't feel anything, not   
even pleasure, a golden water that didn't satisfy his needs. He looked   
at one table were the maids watched him seductively. He watched them   
one by one and found interest only in a young, brunette girl, of a   
vulgar beauty, that seemed to have the makings of a high society whore.   
An hour later he was leading her up the stairs in a small   
room, made especially for the needs of the clients. His face grimaced   
at the appearance of the room, a small bed covered in dirty sheets and a smell that would drive him crazy, the smell of burned out candles,   
sweat and sexual acts consumed in hurry. He pulled away the sheets and   
put down his coat instead and sat her down. He pulled away her dress.   
She was lost in a weary gaze, her soul stripped away along with her   
clothes, in a contemplation he didn't understand. He looked down at her   
young body. He stopped for a moment his eyes staring blankly at her   
neck.  
"What's wrong?" she asked light headed.  
he thought, then realized that he   
didn't need this anymore, as Darla had told him, once you get use to one kind of living you can't return to the last. He had laughed at this remark, but now he understood how right she was. If he were to leave his luxuriant life next to his sire for a miserable one spent in places as retched as this one, he would be more then just a little unhappy.   
He leaned down and kissed her, her legs trembling underneath him. He traced a path down her neck, slipping his demonic face on, he sank his fangs deep inside her neck. A silent horrifying scream escaped her lips, but made no attempt to struggle. She surrounded his waist with her legs, pulling him closer, pushing him deep inside her. She pulled at his shirt, ripping it open with her fingers, her now broken nails bleeding on his white shirt. She started hitting him with his hands. But he couldn't feel it, all he could hear or feel was the blood racing in her veins, and her heart pounding in her chest. For a moment he thought about ripping her chest open and watch her heart die as the blood poured out of her. He declined that thought as being too messy, but promised himself he would try it one day. With one last effort, she bit down on his shoulder as hard as she could, drawing a little blood. Angelus opened his eyes to see her heavy gaze. She breathed hard, her chest moving frantically up and down as he mounted down from the bed. About one thing he was right, the blood filled with misery would always taste better. The blood of the poor. He watched her convulsing naked body until it stopped, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, her long hair spilled on the sweat stained mattress. Her neck wound gave her pale body color, her lips of a dark red. A single drop dripped from her mouth and he ran his thumb across the long trail it left on her face. He took the finger to his lips and tasted his own blood. He left the room immediately, leaving his coat behind.  
Something made him terribly angry. He couldn't understand what. The tavern girl or just the fact that he could never go back to the life he had before and that Darla was right. He hated it when she was right. He moved quickly from the area. He stopped when he reached an empty alley. He realized this was where the vampire he saw earlier killed her victim. The body still stood there leaning on his back, eyes wide from the horror. He turned to leave and saw that the vampire was there, watching him. She clapped her hands and smiled.  
"Well, well, the vampires of the rich are visiting those of the poor. How quaint," she said smiling. She neared him, circling him, he growled at her. "I'm sorry. Can I ask you something? Why didn't you just kill her?" she was talking about the girl in the tavern. He growled again and shoved her into the wall next to the body, the back of her dress barely staining from the almost dried blood. She continued smiling. "What are you planing on doing, kill me?" he loosened his grip on her neck, pining her body to the wall with his own. He kissed her brutally, her hands trying to push him off. No such luck. She sighed and returned the kiss, his hands rising her dress from her thighs, pressing himself into her. She gave a moan as he entered her, his mouth wondering down to her neck. He bit her neck slightly. She made no attempt to stop him until she felt the bite was draining the life from her veins. He growled in pleasure as he went over the edge exploding inside of her, while he was draining the last drop of blood from her veins. He moved away, her body slipping to the floor. He tasted, her flesh and blood, of rotting and old, the familiar taste of ail, poverty and misery. A poor man's vampire. That's what she had been. A lousy kill though, he thought before moving a bit away.  
He looked at the image that lay before him. The body of the young man was resting, his head on the cold wall, his hands stretched out like a beggar for his life and soul, his legs spread across the humid ground, his eyes still wide with anticipation of death, a blank space where the horror laid hours ago, his hair stuck to his head from blood and sweat, his clothes ravished and dirty, his wound turned to a dark red, and now in his lap lie the head of his killer, the perfect golden curls dirty with the misery of the recent struggle, her face losing the glow of immortality, her eyes shut hiding her horror and the lust for the one who had killed her, her velvet green dress still holding the print of her victim and in their background the blood stained wall. For a moment, a dead moment, the drained vampire seemed to move her hand reaching out for something, but it had all been in his mind, the hollow body turning to ash in front of him. He smiled and walked away.   
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"What are you drawing?" Darla asked moving her naked body towards him. He watched her every move. She looked over his shoulder observing the picture. "What does it all mean?" she gestured to the two dead people in an alley.  
"Poverty," he traced the jawbone of the dead vampire with his pencil, making her wound more visible. Darla smiled kissing his shoulder. He was beginning to learn.   
  
End  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 


	2. Eire

Title: Tales of the past: Eire  
Author: Alecca  
e-mail: kitana_m@yahoo.com  
Summary: Angelus and Darla leave Ireland. The boat trip.  
Rating: PG-15? (If that exists)  
Pairings: Angelus/Darla, Angelus/other.  
Spoilers: None here(Maybe some Becoming).  
Disclaimer: I don't own Angelus or Darla, they belong to Joss & Co.  
Feedback: Begging helps. So please, pretty please?   
  
  
Dublin  
19 November 1762  
  
A thick mist covered the old harbor, giving it an ancient look, of mystery and magic, but yet it was just fog on a cold November night. The north winds blew towards the city of Dublin,   
covering it in an icy weather, disliked by all. The rains hardly stopped for a day, the ships being finally able to leave the harbor after weeks of impossible travel by water. Only few dared the tempests of autumn, for their fury was great.  
He walked slowly towards the ships, watching the commotion. Many wanted to leave the coldness of Ireland for the beauty of Europe. Rich, poor, all wanted to leave, but still the city of Dublin was full of people and merchants. He watched with fascination the preparing of the ships. Baggage and crates everywhere, the thieves lurking through the passengers for a few golden coins. Darla moved besides him, her long gown reaching the floor, already stained with mud or water from a puddle. She grimaced when she saw the state it was in. He held her arm so they wouldn't get separated in the crowd. She wanted to leave, after 8 years in Ireland, she needed something new. She did promise him to show him the world. That was her protest when he said they should wait for spring. She desperately wanted to leave, she was sick and bored of the Irish.  
He lost the argument, but mostly he gave up, he wanted to see new places too. She talked with so much excitement about Europe and the years she spent there. And now they were in the harbor waiting for the Queen Anne to take them to a port somewhere in the french region of Bretagne.  
After living around 30 years in Ireland he was going to abandon the place of his birth, leaving behind himself a bloody trail of corpses and death. It took most of the night for all the passengers to get aboard the large ship. But in the end before the crack of dawn, the ship began moving slowly along the coast. He stood there, on the deck aware of the coming sunrise, just to take a final look upon the land of the Irish. The mist began spreading this time more thin towards nothingness in the higher parts of town. The bells of the churches rang announcing the last victims of the creatures of the night. A somewhat happy noise began to be heard from the distant harbor. Maybe there were cheers for their leaving, Angelus thought watching the land distancing from himself. A weak sun made its way through the heavy clouds resting on the sky, predicting more rain would come. Darla pulled him from his weary gaze over the horizon, down into their room, before his skin began to burn or turn into ashes. As he walked down the stairs, he saw one last time Ireland before it disappeared and was replaced by water.  
Down in their small room, he rested, lost in thoughts.  
"What bothers you?" she asked leaving her dress to drop to her feet, revealing a thin silk shirt down to her knees, her breasts showing through the material. He caressed the fine silk. She closed her eyes as his fingers made a path across the material. "It was brought all the way from China. I'm going to take you there one day."  
"Uh-huh," he pushed her closer to him, drawing a lazy trail across her breasts with his tongue. She moaned quietly then pulled away for a moment.  
"You think we can be quiet?" she asked looking around at the small bed. He nodded pulling her closer. He leaned down clutching the silk of her shirt lifting it up over her head, leaving her naked in front of him. The one thing she'll never regret about him was that he was a great lover, of which she could never have enough. He watched her body, every inch of her aching for him. He put away the thought of Ireland and the constant rocking of the boat, that was slowly getting to his nerves. His hands moved up her body, pulling her down on the bed.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*   
  
He woke up stiff in her cold embrace and under the rocking of the boat. His eyes opened and for a moment he forgot where he was, thinking he was in the heated bed of their house in Dublin, or for a split second in the house of his parents, the rocking an effect of the drinking or his father's yelling. He stood up, her naked body covering his. He looked towards the door and realized it was night. Slipping from her embrace, he got dressed and left the cabin.  
The powerful smell of salt invaded his senses while he got closer and closer to the deck. The night was clear, a few stars sparkling on the cloudy sky and he partially could see the full moon rising above his head.  
He looked at the horizon in hope of seeing land, but he could only see water and a vague image of a coast of England. In two nights they would reach Brest and then he could put everything behind them. A girl moved gracefully around him.  
"Might I know what you're looking at?" she asked him,  
with a familiar Irish accent, watching the horizon.  
"Nothing, milady, nothing," he said, a wave of hunger overwhelming him. "May I say you are beautiful?" he made her blush, her curly hair pinned up, a few curls escaping them. He moved his thumb across one of them moving it away from her eyes. Her face   
became redder at his one little gesture to touch her.  
"Viviane!" an old woman came rushing towards them, pulling his hand from the girl's face. "It's not proper to be alone with a man, especially one you don't even know."   
"Aunt, we were just talking," the girl protested.  
"Sir," she turned and walked away with her niece.  
The old bag ruined his dinner. His fist clenched in hate and hunger. He noticed the sky was getting darker and entered the hallway observing inside which room the girl had disappeared into. Luckily for him the lady and her aunt had separate rooms, one next to the other. He knocked on the door of the old woman.  
"You again?" she snapped after she opened the door.  
"It's urgent that I speak to you. It's about your niece. Won't you let me in?" he asked.  
"Come in," she said stepping out of the way. "What's wrong with her?"  
"Nothing," he put his game face on, shoving her into a wall. Putting his hand on her mouth, he bit deep in her neck draining every drop of blood until she laid dead on the bed. He licked his lips and left the room, closing the door behind him. He knocked on the door of her niece. She opened wearing her nightgown.  
"Hello," she said and then realized it wasn't proper for her to be this undressed in front of a man. She put her dress in front of her nightgown. "You mustn't be here, sir. It's not... proper."  
"You look prettier without that," he said pulling away her dress. She blushed and invited him in.  
"My aunt will kill me if she finds out," she said moving so he could close the door. He moved in front of her, their bodies an inch away from one another. "I... we...,"  
she was disturbed by his presence, hypnotized by his beautiful features.  
"Shhhh," he whispered, their lips almost touching. He knew she was pure and innocent and he decided to play with her before he killed her. He kissed her, his tongue devouring her fragile lips, his hands caressing her thighs, while bringing them near to his own, so she could feel his desire for her. She pulled away. He was beginning to lose his temper, but he stayed quiet. He neared her again pulling away the string to her gown, letting it fall to her feet. She looked down at the fallen gown and then back at him, her blue eyes searching for something, while her hands desperately tried to cover herself. He pulled her hands away, holding her wrists firmly away from her body. She looked up at him desperately as his scrutinizing gaze analyzed her body. Tears fell from her eyes. He kissed them away, his hands running over her back. She sighed and surrendered her body to him. An evil grin passed on his lips at the victory.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
He left the boat after two days, on a much clearer night, the stars shining over the quiet harbor, the moon lighting the path of the ships. No mist could be seen, only dew seemed to be forming on the leafs. He wondered why he left the girl, Viviane, alive. Sure she made a great bed warmer, a faithful student and a way to make the time pass faster, but had he attached himself to her? He shook the thought and comforted himself that she had no honor anymore and he killed her precious aunt. She was so devastated when she found out her aunt slipped and broke her neck, as the captain so quaintly put it. Darla taunted him constantly about her. He had left her sleeping in her room, her body tired from their last mating.  
He walked absently in front of Darla, holding his drawings in one hand while carrying her luggage in his other. He dropped one of the drawings, not even noticing it. Darla looked at him and sighed. Should she tell him that while he was looking for their luggage she had slipped in the cabin of the Irish girl? That she had snapped her neck like a twig, not even waking her from her heavy sleep? She chose not to tell him, she could taunt him for months with this. A smile played on her lips as she leaned down and picked up the piece of paper he had dropped. It was the girl from the ship, sleeping naked between the sheets. She turned it on the other side. One word was writing, in his beautiful calligraphy: "Eire". She followed him, thinking the drawing would've been much better if the girl's neck would've been broken, in the impossible angle she had snapped it in. She made a pretty corpse though, she had to admit it.  
  
End   
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 


	3. Blood of the Sacred

Title: Tales of the past: Blood of the sacred  
Author: Alecca  
e-mail: kitana_m@yahoo.com  
Summary: Angelus meets a slayer.  
Couples: Angelus/Darla(not much, but it's always implied), slayer/watcher,   
Rating: PG-13 towards R in the end?  
Spoilers: None here.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Angelus, Darla, Spike or Dru they belong to Joss.  
Feedback: Begging helps. So please, pretty please?   
  
  
23 march 1882  
Grossglockner, Austria  
  
He watched her with amusement as she moved through the cemetery. Why she had to dress so ridiculous, he'd never understand. Men's clothes weren't meant for young girls, but still it gave her a certain charm for breaking the rules. The long pants, her legs showing, to the amazement of the local women, who treated her like a whore. A large shirt, two sizes larger then her own body, was stuffed in her pants. She always wore boots, leather boots, the only things she seemed to have beautiful to wear, her blond hair tied into a ponytail, baring one single cross at her neck. That was the little slayer that followed him like a curse through Europe. Darla always laughed when he told her how she dressed and fought.  
"She's just a child. Why don't you just kill her?" she asked him one night, while they were in England.  
"She amuses me," he told her, ignoring her usual taunting when it came to women. Like Drusilla, she had laughed so much of his obsession for her, even if she was the one to point her out. And now   
his beloved Dru had made herself a mate, a destructive hoodlum named William.  
The Hungarian girl from Gyor was his only fun, his distraction. His lair became a circle of tension for power and love. It was obvious Darla disliked Dru and her insanity exasperated her, finding pleasure in torturing her about her dead family. And William was planing to leave him and take Dru with him. Not like she would ever leave his side.  
Tonight, the 16-year-old slayer was fighting two of his best minions. With a few fast moves they where history. He watched her intensely. Her wild brown eyes looking around the cemetery for any other movement. He could smell her blood and her skin, he knew she would taste and smell like lilies. Her image was perfect in the cold winter night, she seemed like a ghost that died in a war, and now rose from her grave for vengeance. She was pure like a holly virgin and more powerful then the four slayers he had met over the years. He knew how lonely she was, she had no friends, except for her watcher. The stuck up Englishman sent by the Watchers Council to take care of the slayer. He was young, and it surprised him, usually the watchers were old, this one must have earned his position somehow.   
He snapped out of his thoughts as she moved towards the gates of the cemetery. He followed quietly, his figure lost in the pale light and the shadows of the oak trees that surrounded the resting bodies of the nearly departed. She moved towards the small house she and her watcher were living in, a barrack in the outskirts of town. She arranged her clothes and hair before knocking on the door. He thought it was strange, but chose to ignore it. The Englishman, in his late twenties opened the door and welcomed her with a smile.  
"How was hunting?" he asked letting her pass through the door. The house was old as it was, only two beds, a table and two lockers filled the small cottage, unlike the houses and lairs Angelus and his sire where use to. Once their 'family' enlarged, Darla got use to the idea of not attending the balls or her smooth foreplay with her victims.  
"Two vampires in the cemetery down the street. Three in the Heimlish up the hill," she said, her Hungarian accent made itself present.  
"They seem to have more interest in the noble, lately," he said placing some food in front of her. She didn't touch it. "Aren't you hungry?" he asked when he saw she didn't eat one bite. "You need your strength."  
"The baker's wife gave me something to eat while I was heading towards the Heimlish," she smiled weakly. The middle age woman, was the only one who seemed to pity her or to understand her. Angelus knew the woman saw her hunting one night, while she was taking flowers to her dead child's grave. He heard how she refereed to her as 'engel der menshhait', the angel of humanity.  
"You should get some rest," the watcher told her. She motioned for him to turn as she undressed. His back turned, she began taking off her shirt in slow moves. Angelus watched with anticipation as she revealed her flesh. Once she was naked she looked with hesitation at her watcher, as something had crossed her mind, but then it was stomped back down. She quickly pulled her nightgown over her head. "Done?" the Englishman asked, the girl let out an approving sound. "Irma, the town's people are going to have some sort of ball tomorrow night. I was thinking you should go," her face lighten up, he knew how lonely she felt, her violent sobs woke him up at night. "Have some fun for once," he smiled when he saw her reaction.   
"But... I have no dress," she remembered, her features turning into sadness.   
"I...uhhh, I bought you one when you were out hunting."   
She jumped up and hugged him, their bodies pressed against each other. The watcher closed his eyes trying to block out the feelings she awakened in him.   
Angelus let out a mock like smile and moved away from the window. He got the perfect plan, though it would spoil the fun he had with the slayer, another would come, maybe not as fragile and naive as this one, but still they were like a plague for his kind, one that had no cure. Their blood was like a thick reminder that humanity would always have a champion, weak, strong, but it would always exist. Some called their blood sacred, baring the fight over the centuries, for him it was only a mockery, which the gods played against his kind. He wrapped the coat around his waste and walked faster into the night.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
She walked quickly towards the hall, her long dress stroking the dust as she moved on the dry land. Rain hadn't fallen for a few days now, but the cloudy sky announced it would rain tonight, she hoped not before she reached the ball. Angelus watched her moves. She entered the old house breathing hard. She arranged her dress wiping away the dust. Green suited her, he thought while he moved inside, making sure he was out of her sight. All heads turned as she walked in. She could hear laughter, but she stepped in. The noble girls had dresses much more sophisticated then the one she was wearing. She thought she had the prettiest gown when her watcher and the baker's wife complimented her, but now, Angelus could see how bad she felt. She still walked in, while others stared at her and whispered.   
"She certainly looks more respectable," one man commented to his friend. "But that doesn't change what she is."  
"She lives with a man, a respectable Englishman down the hill, in a house with one room. She must have charmed him," a woman told her companion.  
"They're not even married. What a shame," an older woman told her daughter.  
"She's only good for one thing that's for sure," a man said to his wife, a smile on his face. She tried ignoring them, but couldn't help but hear their comments. A dance started. Angelus stepped out of the crowd and began walking towards her. He knew she wouldn't kill him in the middle of the ball. The girls smiled from behind their fans at him. He lowered his head gracefully in front of them. He would convince one to follow him outside.   
"Dance with me," he told her. She was startled to see him there. "Surprised?" he asked, a grin crossing his face. She damned herself for leaving her cross at the house. He pulled her closer so he could whisper in her ear. "How do you like it? Been treated like a whore?" he asked, her eyes went wide with despair. "You'll die tonight, slayer," he whispered. She pulled away and ran out. The rain began poring from the sky as she left the hall. Angelus followed, he wasn't about to give her the easy way out, a simple death. He let her think she was safe.   
She ran, the feeling of been followed never leaving her mind. Why didn't she stay at the ball, where he couldn't touch her because of all the people? Maybe because she had a bad feeling that even if she'd scream in pain, the people would just watch her die, laughing at her poor attempts to struggle for her life, in the vampire's embrace. The water turned to puddles, mixing with the dust of the dry land. She tripped and fell, her green dress turning to a dark shade. Tears began flowing from her eyes as she rose from the ground, her beautiful hair sticking to her head. She looked behind and found nothing. Still she knew he would be out there, watching her. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as she began to run towards the cottage down the hill.  
"Charles! Charles!" she knocked hard on the door almost breaking it. The watcher opened, looking startled at the sight of the soaked, dirty slayer.  
"What happened?" he asked letting her in.  
"Angelus," she simply said and crouched near her bed, holding her legs under her chin. A moment of total silence. She looked blankly at the wooden floor. "They hated me," she said in a low voice.   
"That's not true," he said sitting next to her on the floor. He looked at her. "Your dress is all dirty."  
"They didn't even talk to me. They treated me like-like... a whore," tears began falling from her eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled her in his lap, her head under his chin.  
"They don't know you. You're a beautiful, strong, young girl," he said rubbing her back.  
"You think I'm beautiful?" she asked between sobs. Their faces inches away. He leaned down and kissed her. Her sobs stopped as their kiss deepened. He pulled her closer, their upper bodies pressed against each other. They broke the kiss. Irma blushed slightly. She stood up and began removing her dress.   
He stood up and turned his back. She came from behind, pressing her half naked body to the soft material of his shirt. She closed her eyes at the comfort that feeling brought to her. Her hands pressed on his chest. He covered them with his own. He turned and watched as she opened her eyes looking full of hope.  
"Are you sure?" he asked. She nodded dropping her dress to the floor. She stood there naked in front of him. He hugged her close to him as he began kissing her long.   
Angelus looked surprised at them. A watcher and a slayer, lovers? That would change a few things, but still his mind was made up, as he watched their bodies entangle on the small bed, as the slayer lost her innocence.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Pain would always be there, in every soul, lucky for him he didn't own anything like that. In his situation, a conscience was the last thing he would need. He walked in front of the window watching the lovers resting tranquil in the bed covered in pale, white sheets, sleeping, her hand holding him close, with the fear of losing him. The rain had stopped leaving the land soft.   
Her eyelids flew open at the sound of rocks crashing into wood. She looked around and found nothing. She looked down at her lover and smiled, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. She heard the sound again and realized it was coming from outside. She grabbed a staked and put a sheet around herself, making sure she didn't wake her sleeping watcher.  
"I love you," she whispered in his ear. She didn't understand why she had to tell him now. Only after she opened the door she realized she had the feeling she would die tonight. She looked back one more time, before stepping outside, her feet reaching the soft ground. She walked towards the back of the house, her stake ready to kill anything that might attack. Angelus jumped her from behind, one hand around her neck, the other taking the stake from her hand. His lips nuzzled on her neck, before his fangs entered her neck. A low cry escaped her throat. She tried to struggle, but as much has she did, his fangs would pierce deeper into her neck, wounding her flesh. She stopped her struggle, tired of the constant fight for survival, where only the strong remained. At that moment she knew she was weak. A flash of the ball room crossed her mind, the laughter, becoming unbearable. Angelus bit on his wrist and forced her to drink. Before the darkness took her, she saw one last image. Her naked lover, sleeping covered in sheets, a weak smile crossed her face as her body felt to the ground.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The watcher woke up from his nightmare. A black hooded creature had taken the slayer into the depths of an abyss he could not reach. A sheen of sweat covered his body and a chill went up his spine when he saw the place besides him was empty. She pulled a pair of pants on and walked outside.  
"Irma!" he yelled looking around. He was relieved when he saw her sitting in the swing he had made for her in the back garden. A sheet covered her body, her hand clutching to the side of the swing. He closed his eyes and sighed. He moved towards the oak tree. "You scared me," he told her, but then saw the wound at the side of her neck. Tears began flowing without will from his eyes as he watched blankly her naked body. Suddenly she jumped on him, her vampire features showing. More tears began flowing from his eyes as he pushed her into a branch. A look of agony crossed her face, her features turning human, and her lips formed one single word, why?, as her body collapsed in a million threads of dust. The watcher sank to his knees crying hysterically watching the dust rise in the cold wind after the storm. Angelus smiled at his pain and walked away. Another would come and another and another, and he would always be there to see them suffer and die in agony.  
  
End   
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 


	4. Hunted

Title: Tales of the past: Hunted  
Author: Alecca  
e-mail: kitana_m@yahoo.com  
Summary: The vampire foursome take a trip to Africa and decide to visit the rain forest, but when they enter a native village it's not long before William aka Spike starts trouble.   
Rating: Uhm PG-13, sort of.   
Spoilers: None here.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Angelus, Darla, Spike or Dru they belong to Joss.  
Feedback: Begging helps. So please, pretty please?   
  
Rain Forest, Nigeria  
1893  
  
  
The heat was overwhelming, surrounding them, seeming to want to choke their escape, four stealthy figures running into the wildness, through the glorious rain forest. They stopped at some point, even their immortal bodies had a limit. The youngest of them looked back through the trees, trying to see if anything, anyone could have kept up with them, but he couldn't even spot the shape of a flower in the darkness, the shadows of the majestic trees covering any tracks that maybe, only maybe might have been visible during the daytime. So they could rely only on their hearing, that's the only way they could know if enemies were nearing and it wasn't easy, trying to ignore all the sounds of the nature that bloomed around them and singling out the sound of human steps that could easily be mistaken for those of animals.  
"They can't be behind us anymore," Darla said tired. Her body was calling out for blood, her clothes, even if they were manly and light, stuck to her body like glued, the sweat lingering everywhere making her feel uncomfortable. What was she doing here? She was suppose to be in a big city feasting on mortals now, not soaking wet in a damn rain forest.   
"I can still hear their voices, like wolves howling at the moon. Auuuu" Dru howled happily. She didn't care that the wolf howling was actually the chant of the tribe. Also, she didn't seem to mind that her pretty dress - she had absolutely refused to dress like a man - was now dirty with mud, green from the leafs and sweat from her own dead body.   
"Yes, Dru, I especially liked it when they wanted to torch us for the glory of their night god," Darla snapped at her. She wasn't in the mood for her gibberish.   
"It's not her fault," William looked over at her. "You're the one who said, oh, let's go to Cairo and see the bloody pyramids!"   
"Yeah, but who wanted to go see the pretty jungle?" Darla asked and the tree vampires looked over at Drusilla who had now started to dance to the sounds of the forest.   
"I don't even know why we listen to her, she's insane," Angelus said wiping away the sweat from his face.  
"We all know whose fault it really is," Darla said and Angelus looked over at William that was now trying to focus on hearing   
or smelling something, probably just to escape the torment of another fight with Angelus in that blasted heat. After a few moments he gave up.  
"I can't hear anything but monkeys laughing, snakes slithering and insects crawling. And I can't smell a bloody thing. All this water in the air clogs my nose," William said pissed.  
"Join me for a dance, my William?" Drusilla asked stopping gracefully in front of him. She was the only one who seemed to enjoy this particular adventure.  
"At least someone is still having fun," Darla said exasperated, while William indulged in a little dance with Dru. "I couldn't even stand a body touching mine in such a heat!" for the first time she seemed to be on the verge of either having a nervous break down or going insane. "And I'm so hungry…" her voice trailed off as she saw a snake moving next to her feet. She picked it up with one hand, holding it from the back of its head. "Well you'll have to do," she told the snake as she looked in its hypnotizing yellow eyes that strangely seemed to match hers.   
"Aren't snakes suppose to have cold blood?" William asked while he spun Dru around one last time.  
"Oh, shut up! We all know you ate," Darla gave him a mean look. William looked away from her, he knew how mad she was.  
"Let me," Angelus took the snake from her hands. Darla wanted to protest, but after a moment realized what he wanted to do and let him have the snake. Angelus let the snake slither on his hand and entangle its tail around his wrist. He bit into it and his tail held on even stronger before it gave out, dying.   
"May I have its poison, my Angel?" Drusilla's eyes focused on the dead snake with an unhealthy glare. Angelus looked down at the dead animal and shrugged before letting it fall on the ground. Drusilla strolled over picking up the corpse. "Tsk, tsk…my pretty little snake, all worn out. Daddy tires out everyone," she looked lusciously over at Angelus who was watching her intensely. William didn't like the glances they shared. Even though he knew he couldn't stop Dru from sometimes wondering into Angelus's bedroom he didn't like it. He had tried to persuade Darla into letting him share her bed, at least out of jealousy towards what happened between Dru and Angelus, but she wouldn't have it. The only time she had actually let him touch her was when Angelus left her unsatisfied - he had abandoned her because she wouldn't stop teasing him about a certain slayer he couldn't bring himself to kill yet - and then she didn't allow him to get off in any way. She had just pressed his head down between her thighs and awaited for him to do his job. She didn't care that it left him wanting! But god knew what she would've done if he had refused her. Angelus of course didn't know.  
Unconsciously his eyes had stopped on Darla.  
"What? Do I have dirt on my face? I wouldn't be surprised," Darla said exasperated.   
"Look at my pretty snake," Drusilla came over to him, giddy, showing him the little corpse. "His eyes are yellow. Yellow like the light…" Dru chanted. "But it's dead!" it suddenly hit her and she dropped it on the ground. "Ugly dead things!" she wiped her hands on her dress.  
"The poison, Dru. You wanted the poison," Angelus reminded her and Drusilla let out a gasp.   
"The poison, the poison," she remembered happily picking up the dead snake again. Darla rolled her eyes. She wasn't in the mood for Dru's fits.  
"Feed me," Darla looked into Angelus's eyes. The vampire ripped away the collar of his shirt and taking Darla by the head he pressed her into his neck. Darla was more then happy to bite down and drain blood from his veins. Angelus growled in satisfaction. All vampires liked to be bitten, especially by their sires. It was erotic. He pressed her body closer to his. Even though she hadn't abandoned her snaked, Drusilla's gaze was focused on them. She wanted nothing more then to join them, but she knew grandmother would be upset if she tried to drink from her now. She was weak from the lack of blood and if someone drained from her she would be even weaker. And that would surely upset her. She let out an unnecessary sigh before returning to her snaked. By now Angelus and Darla were doing far more then just sharing blood.   
"What happened to 'I can't stand to touch another body'?" William grumbled ungluing his eyes from the now mating couple. His own lust was beginning to rise and he didn't want to do anything in that blasted forest, in the choking heat. Drusilla, ignoring the panting and moaning of her sires proceeded to extract the poison from the fangs of the snake. She had seen it done in the village they had escaped and found the process fascinating. The poison dripped in her palm and she cheered enthusiastically, throwing away the dead snake.   
"Look! I've done it, my William, I've done it!" she cheered snapping William out of his concentration on the two vampires. He had got caught in their wild rhythm and their growling and screaming, especially now that Darla, with her back smashed into a tree was turned towards him with her mouth covered in blood, moaning as her back arched towards Angelus's body, rubbing her now bare chest on his and her hips spread in a strange position that mortals were probably not capable of. She was louder then he had imagined. The walls were usually thick in their lairs and that time he had comforted her she had bitten down on the sheets so Dru wouldn't hear them and later mention to her 'daddy' what her William and grandmother had been up to. Angelus was just looking for a reason to kill him and truth be told Darla didn't really feel like sharing Angelus full time with Dru again.   
"And what would you like to do with it?" William turned his attention on Dru. "Go and poison children back in the village and blame it on their big bad god?" Dru shook her head.   
"I want to drink it," she stated fidgeting in front of him. "Want a taste?" she asked and William gave her a kind smile.  
"Of course, my love. We'll be like Romeo and Juliet. We'll drink poison from our lips," he said embracing her. Even if he was a vampire without a soul and Drusilla was insane, he couldn't help but love her. She was his dark goddess, the fallen angel of his dreams that had risen him from the grim future that awaited him as a mortal. Now he was above them, not beneath.   
Drusilla moistened her fingers in the poison and gently with one finger, dripping with venom, traced the line down from his forehead to his lips and then started licking away the poison with kisses, eventually stopping down on his lips.   
Suddenly there was noise. Darla immediately stopped her panting, her legs, straddled around Angelus's waist held on even tighter. Angelus's head rose from her neck and his eyes darted into the darkness. There were footsteps, people running their way. Drusilla let out a surprised sound.  
"The wolves are here!" she was actually happy about it. The chants of the tribe reminded her of the songs in her head. She left William's arms to await, very giddy, the arrival of her wolves.   
"Let's go! Now!" Angelus ordered angrily after he and Darla had straightened up. William pulled an unwilling Drusilla by the hand. As they began to run again, Darla muttered under her breath:  
"How the hell did they catch up so fast?"   
"Wolves," Angelus almost growled. He was so mad! He had been so sure they had left the villagers far behind, but they seemed to move with unearthly speed, but he knew they were humans. He had tasted their blood. Maybe there was something about that god of theirs after all. He thought back to their encounter with the villagers. Dru had heard the drums and chanting from far away and there was no way of stopping her. She wanted to see them. She kept blabbering on about how they knew her songs. The songs that the birdies sang inside her head. They had no choice. They couldn't let her leave alone even if it was likely that she could have taken care of herself and hid from the morning sun by digging herself a grave in the earth, but they didn't want to risk it. Besides William found the escape in the wilderness boring and the sound of the drums seemed to finally bring some interest to the trip.   
"Finally, some bloody action," he had mumbled before following Dru towards the village. Darla had been amused and persuaded Angelus to join the two vampires in this native village.   
Angelus wondered what kind of impression had the villagers had of them in the beginning? Four ghostly white creatures invading the sacred grounds of the tribe. They had been superstitious of course. He couldn't tell if they had ever seen another white man before. They had traveled deep into the jungle, maybe too foolishly deep. Then again there were no dangers for them, the animals weren't slayers pointing their stakes at their hearts, there was neither fire, only the sun reserved some kind of threat that could've easily been avoided in caves or simply in the earth, where Dru sometimes preferred to sleep. At first the music had stopped and the villagers had stared at them, then a woman screamed and yelled something pointing at them. An old man had risen from his place among the elders and approached them. He said something in his strange language. Somehow Dru seemed to understand him. She had laughed.   
"They think we're spirits from the nether world, sent by their god," Dru had told them. "We speak the language of the gods," she had added cheerfully.   
It hadn't been too bad. They had danced for them fed them food - they had barely touched it, just enough not to insult them - offered men and women to satisfy them. He had been offered a young girl, a virgin, a rare beauty with chocolate skin. He had been hungry. So hungry.   
He had lead her in a hut and tide her eyes so she wouldn't see his demon face or what he was doing. She didn't protest even if he had felt her fear. He couldn't kill her because the villagers would immediately react violently. He had seen too many pointy spears to act so foolishly. So he had drunk from her, biting the skin right under her thick necklace so the wound wouldn't show. She hadn't screamed, only gasped at one point, her hands grasping the back of his shirt. She was strong for a woman, at least for a mortal one. When he had slipped his teeth out of her skin, she had collapsed in his arms with a heavy sigh. He couldn't leave the hut by himself, the rest of the women would surely enter and panic at the sight of the passed out girl. He removed the blindfold from her eyes and gently shook her awake. She was dizzy from the lack of blood but he brought her out, sustained on his body and let her sit next to him while the villagers continued their chants and Drusilla seemed at some point to have joined them. They made a strange gathering.   
When he had turned his face towards Darla, she had given him a worried look. At first he had thought she was worried that he had killed the girl, but only then noticed who was missing.   
"William," he had let out. If the vampire had indeed taken one of the village women to a hut it was pointless to even consider he would have actually thought about what he was doing and let the woman live. He hadn't even had time to think of an escape plan when the scream of a woman was heard. William had left the hut and the dead woman inside. He wanted to kill him right then, but he was becoming aware of the growing agitation of the villagers. The music stopped and Drusilla had returned to them. She was somehow scared.  
"Fire. Fire. It's coming towards us! Red flames eating the flesh…" Dru panted while William finally managed to join them through the growing mob of the villagers.  
"You did it again, didn't you?" Angelus barked at him.  
"Calm down, mate. What can a bunch of undressed villagers do to us?" William asked even though by now they were surrounded. Angelus rose him up by the collar of his shirt, shaking him.  
"Angelus…" Darla touched his hand. "Now is not the time. We have to get out of here."  
Villagers had started a different chant this time, a darker one that reminded Angelus of old Irish burial songs. And they were carrying something. Torches, he had noted in his mind. They didn't have to know they were vampires, they purified anything evil by flame.   
"You asked what they could do to us. Look at those pretty flames, don't you just want to throw yourself at them," Angelus had shaken William again, before letting him go. The old man that had spoken before, had said something.  
"They don't like us anymore," Dru had pouted. "They say they want to send us back to Valashka."  
"Bloody idiots! Like they don't sacrifice children to their damn Valashka," William had said angrily.   
"Actually, they don't," Darla had said beginning to feel uneasy in the middle of the mob. "Didn't you see the altars? They burn the mightiest animals or fruit, nothing human. And whatever Valashka is, it's not their god. They call him Teekeia."   
"Sorry, I was too busy eating lunch," William had said and Angelus had smacked him over the head. "So are we going to get the hell out of here or are we going to wait for the natives to torch us alive?"  
They had barely made it out alive through the crowd. Not even William seemed to consider the whole adventure fun anymore. Drusilla's dress had caught fire and Angelus had trouble calming her down in the midst of the battle they were fighting for their freedom. They had run through the jungle, but the chants seemed to still follow them closely, until leaving behind any kind of humanity they had left, they sank themselves in an inhuman chase, their feet barely touching the ground as they fled. After hours, when they had stopped, tired, they had thought the villagers were far behind them, but now they proved them wrong. The chant still followed them, haunting the animal cries of the jungle with their eerie notes. What demon did they serve? Angelus asked himself as he started running again. Darla was by his side, feeling better after drinking his blood, while Dru and William were behind them, making efforts to hold the pace with them. They were younger and the snake's poison, even if it didn't kill them, it had made them a bit dizzy.   
At some point, Angelus couldn't tell when, William tripped and Dru stayed behind to help him up. By the time they were ready to run again Darla and Angelus were no where in sight. They were already far away and they were alone in the forest, like two lost children.  
"William…" Dru said in a frightened tone.  
"We can make it without them, love, don't you worry," the vampire assured her, though he wasn't sure himself. His eyes were still blurry from the poison and the chant seemed to near them with every second they spared to talk. Then suddenly, a spear flew towards them from the thick darkness, cutting with its sharp edge a lock of Drusilla's black hair. They could see the torches approaching.   
"The fire, the fire…" Dru started panting. William took Dru's hand and was about to run when a storm of fire seemed to launch itself over them out of the dark. Strangely, the fire in the arrows burnt out instantly before it could touch the trees, only the ones that might hit them still had flames. Ironically, while ducking from a flaming arrow, one that was turned out hit William straight in the shoulder. The tip of the arrow was still warm when it hit his bone.  
He winced in pain.   
"Run, love, run," he told Dru, but she wouldn't have it. She pulled the arrow from his shoulder, taking time - she didn't care the villagers were dangerously near - to lick away the blood from its metal tip. Then she lifted him up as if he were nothing and then ran. She didn't care were Darla and Angelus were heading. She had to take her William to safety. She wanted to stay and kill off the villagers and their jungle magic by herself. But she knew she would burn if she stayed and her William would perish along with her. She quivered. If there was one thing she didn't want was to die by flames. After running for a while she felt something they had all ignored in their run…the sun. It was close to sunrise. Too close. They couldn't make it out of the forest in time to get to a city. She smiled. She had actually hoped that would happen. She wanted to see how it felt to sleep in jungle soil with all the insects crawling over you, eating away at your skin. William would surely hate it, but he had no other choice.  
"We must sleep, my William. The sun is near," she told him, but he could barely hear her. There must have been more then just flames on that arrow. Poison, probably. He just wanted to sleep and recover. By morning the wound would surely become nothing more but a scratch and all the dizziness and weakness would disappear with the coming of a new night.  
"Sleep," he mumbled the only word he had heard. Drusilla gladly dug a whole with her bare hands in the earth that was soft and moist. When she thought it was deep enough she rolled William inside and then she got in herself, pulling the earth - that was barely standing on the side of the grave anyway - over them. Before falling asleep, her hands holding William protectively to her chest, she heard footsteps above them. The villagers searched for their prey in the morning sun. How could they know they didn't have one anymore? That with the coming of the day the creatures they hunted disappeared into the shadows? Drusilla and William hiding in the earth underneath them and Darla and Angelus somewhere far away - they had made it out of the forest and into a small colony, where, they now slept undisturbed in a cellar. The hunt of the hunters was over.  
  
End 


	5. Mask of innocence

Title: Tales of the past: Mask of Innocence  
Author: Alecca  
E-mail: kitana_m@yahoo.com  
Summary: To satisfy Darla's curiosity, the four vampires (Angelus, Darla, Dru and Spike) attend a strange mask ball.  
Couples: Angelus/Darla, Spike/Drusilla.  
Rating: PG-13 towards R in the end?  
Spoilers: None here.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Angelus, Darla, Spike or Dru they belong to Joss.  
Feedback: Begging helps. So please, pretty please?   
  
  
Vienna, Austria   
January 1889   
  
They walked side by side, two young couples, looking at the height of their lives, rich and beautiful, in the grandiose capital of Austria - but the truth was far from that. They were neither young, nor rich. The youngest of them was over 32, but still looked barely 21, while the oldest had lived across centuries, and seen the world and all its treasures after her heart had stopped dead in her chest, and her blood was poisoned with that of an elder vampire. That blood was their binding; they all carried it, even if only in a small degree. A part of each other inside themselves. As for the wealth, they currently dwelled in a mineshaft outside the city, thanks to the doings of their youngest companion, as well as a rather persistent demon hunter who had followed them across Europe like a plague. And there was a fresh new slayer who was a bit too confident in her line of work.   
She had found out about the death of one of her predecessors was by Angelus' hand as well as the mass killings in the crowd preferred by William, and had decided she should kill them for the good of humanity. But she was perverse. Killing them wasn't really what she was after; she had a preference for traveling around a lot, to see the world and at the same time empty the pockets of the Watchers' Council, saying that it was "all for a good cause".  
They had run into each other on three occasions, one from which she had completely ignored them, even when they were sitting only a row in front of her at the opera in Moscow while her watcher was desperately trying to point them out without alarming anyone else. The second time she had fought them only because one of the Watchers' Council elders was present at the time, while during the third - only a few weeks ago - she had burned their luxuriant lair to the ground. Darla admired her, in a twisted sort of way, for the ability to have gotten the Watchers' Council wrapped around her little finger. She was French and a noble after all. She was considered the dream of every young girl in her hometown, the girl who had eloped with her 'English lover' a week before her actual marriage. At least, that's what she led on in a few letters sent home to her mother and sister. The truth was her watcher had to knock her out and throw her on a horse and ride out like a storm, to convince her it wasn't a game.  
Angelus considered her unworthy to be a slayer, while William tried to run into her as often as possible to satisfy Drusilla's ever-growing admiration.  
As for their last lair, in which they had barely settled in, in a small town close to Vienna, they were chased away by an angry mob which had followed William and Drusilla home after a bloody night of hunting. Angelus cursed all the way to Vienna. But now things seemed to have calmed down. There was no trace of the slayer, or of the hunter whose family they had killed.  
"Do you notice anything strange?" Darla asked, looking at the people on the streets.  
"Yes. The people... They're glowing all shiny colors. Some are blue and some are red... And some just wear their bare hearts in front of them," Drusilla said looking at the people passing by her with a certain fascination.  
"Wouldn't that be nice? Would spare us a lot of trouble. I wouldn't get all that skin and meat under my nails from digging through it. Then again, where's the fun in that?" William asked smiling.  
"Not what I meant." Darla said, turning her head towards Angelus for a moment before returning towards the people on the streets. "Anyone else? And let's leave the glowing people out, Dru," she told the vampiress before she could say something again.  
"Everyone's just waiting to be dinner?" William suggested.  
"No," Darla pressed the word.  
"Looks like it to me," William said.   
"They're all rich. And I must've heard ten different languages tonight alone," Darla said exasperated.  
"Probably just merchants. Vienna's a big city," Angelus said absently searching for a suitable victim trough the crowd.   
"What's the difference anyway? French, English, Germans...they all taste the same," William pointed out.  
"Hungry, my William?" Drusilla asked smiling.  
"Yes, luv. Let's hunt," William nodded, taking her hand. As he was about to walk away, Angelus stood in front of him.  
"Try not to make a mess of things again. I don't think we can stoop lower than a mineshaft. I'll personally feed you to that angry mob if you bring them to us again," Angelus threatened him before stepping aside.  
"Don't worry, mate, this isn't Baden. It's Vienna for God sakes! People just don't form an angry mob because of one measly vampire!" William said shaking his head and departing from the two vampires along with Drusilla.  
"Maybe I should've told him what happened in Marseilles," Angelus said looking after the two vampires.  
"Let him learn on his own. I doubt he'd listen to you anyway," Darla said smiling.  
"So what exactly bothers you about the people?" Angelus asked as they began walking down the street.  
"I don't know, it's like they're here for something," Darla said looking at the people again.  
"The opera perhaps?" Angelus asked.  
"No, it's something else," Darla said and then put the thought aside. "Let's hunt. I feel like a child tonight," she said and Angelus grinned, already finding a lost child through the crowd.  
* * *  
As their wild kisses deepened, they heard footsteps coming towards them. They parted, Angelus' hand grabbing an ax from nearby. But it was only William and Dru. Angelus put down the ax and shook his head.  
"Don't you get spooked easily?" William said smiling, content that he managed to startle his grandsire.  
"Well since you managed to not appear where we were supposed to meet earlier tonight, I dared to hope someone did away with you. It seems the gods are just not on my side these days," Angelus said while Darla rearranged her dress, a little angry that they were disturbed.  
"What gods?" William asked mockingly. "We ran into the slayer."  
"My William was so brave, Angelus. You should've seen him. She didn't stand a chance if it weren't for that messy crowd, he would've killed her I'm sure and I would've tasted a slayer's heart," Dru said dreamily.  
"A crowd?" Angelus asked standing up. "What did I mention to you before we parted?"  
"We were at the opera," Spike said and Angelus stopped in his tracks.  
"And what exactly were you doing at the opera?" Angelus asked suspiciously.  
"Since when does William the Bloody attend the opera?" Darla asked mistrusting him as well.   
"It's Spike now. How many times do I have to tell you that?" Spike said shaking his head in exasperation.  
"Just answer the question." Angelus told him menacingly.  
"Don't be mad with him, my Angel, I just wanted to see how the singing woman works," Drusilla stepped between the two vampires.  
"Let me get this straight. You killed the soprano?" Darla asked.  
"Yeah. I almost broke a fang in her neck... You should've seen all the muscles she had there," William said smiling.  
"All the pretty pulsating flesh. Hard as rock, stiff as iron" Dru said, obviously enchanted by their hunt.  
"Oh, and by the way you were right," William told Darla. "Something is happening. It's a masked ball or something like that," he said and pulled out a bloodstained invitation from his pocket and handed it to her.  
"Hmmm... It seems we'll be attending a ball tomorrow night. Strange...it's somewhere underground," Darla said, trying to find the place it was going to take place.  
"Yeah, maybe it's going to turn into a massacre," William hoped. Drusilla clapped her hands cheerfully.  
"I haven't seen a good massacre in ages. It's so pretty like rose buds in spring" Dru said enthusiastically.  
* * *  
"I'm bored... Can't we just start a little fight? Kill a few people?" William said as they observed the people from the shadows, his voice slightly muffled by the mask he wore on his face. "Bloody thing!" He said, raising the mask on his forehead.  
"Put that back. It's very likely the slayer's going to be here. I don't want you seen," Angelus told him.   
"Let her. I feel like a good fight," William said impatiently.   
"Most likely she'll ignore you," Darla told him.   
"Believe me. I won't let her," William told her. "What's so interesting about this party anyway? Just a bunch of people with masks and capes, acting all mysterious," William said, still not putting his mask back on.   
"There are things here. Evil things," Dru said, smiling.   
"Yeah, other vampires getting a kick out of this, while we're lurking in the shadows," Spike said shaking his head.  
"It's your fault in the first place. You have people hunting us when we're supposed to be hunting them," Angelus said angrily.  
"Oh, yeah, whose bright idea was killing that slayer 7 years ago anyway?" Spike asked.  
"Ah, I brought the slayer, I see. It wasn't all your random killing when there are more than a hundred people around to see them," Angelus spit out.  
"Stop bickering. I want to see where all this is going," Darla cut their argument short.   
"What makes you think it's going anywhere?" William asked and Angelus was one step away from hitting him.  
"That, for example," Darla said, pointing towards a hideous statue in the middle of the room.  
"Big deal! I always knew these rich pigs worshipped Satan," William said. "That, or sculptures just aren't what they used to be."  
"The people, they're sparkling. Like stars on a clear sky," Dru said smiling. "Some are brighter, some are darker."  
"Who's darker, Dru?" Angelus asked, looking trough the crowd.   
"The children. They're so evil, so wicked, so dark. Beautiful..." Dru replied with a smile of delight.  
"Children? I don't see any children," William said looking around, trying to spot a child. "I feel like having a nice, ripe toddler. An evil one would be even better."  
"Not these children, my William," Dru said pressing a delicate finger to his lips. "They're like poison, going to your heart," she added making a lazy trail across his chest to his heart.  
"And when did you plan on sharing this little detail with us?" Darla asked angrily. "When I have my mouth full of poison?"   
"Leave her alone. At least now we know what's happening," William said taking Dru's hand in his and laying a soft kiss on it.   
"And what is happening?" Angelus asked, curious of his conclusion.   
"Evil children are about to kill their mommies and daddies and we're here to watch," Spike told him.   
"No," Dru was the one who denied Angelus the pleasure of telling William he was wrong. "The children...they're dead..."  
"But how can they throw such a ball?" Darla asked.  
"Vampire children?" Angel suggested.  
"No! They died here...tonight," Dru said humming.  
"That's why she couldn't feel them before," Spike told Darla. "Where are the children, luv?"   
"There! Hiding," Drusilla whispered pointing towards a blood red curtain hanging heavily from the ceiling.   
"So that's what they do, sacrifice children to some demon," Angelus realized. "I always thought we should build ourselves a religion," then rethinking it, "but it's much more fun to get food ourselves. Besides, religions are usually for demons too fat or too lazy to hunt anymore."  
"They're absolutely pathetic," Darla agreed.  
"If I ever wind up that way - through any circumstances - feel free to kill me," Angelus said, looking through the crowd again.  
"That's a promise," William said, cheered up just at the thought of Angelus being killed. "Now can we go?"  
"But the children...their little bodies...so much hate and darkness. They're inside them. The wretched insects," Dru panted. "The children have to die first, then they come and everywhere, just blood, wonderful blood. Red as a rose."  
"So someone's making the wrong assumptions here. The children are possessed and there's going to be a massacre," Darla said in a sing-song voice, thrilled at the perspective.  
The red curtain suddenly opened revealing a group of harmless looking children, playing with what looked like the remains of a corpse. The crowd's attention turned towards them and as one of the children stood up, holding in his fist, a still bleeding heart, and stared at them, the crowd burst into applause. The child took the heart to his mouth and bit into it. The cheers intensified.  
"Long live, Teveron!" A woman exclaimed, stepping out of the crowd, removing her mask. The people in the followed her example and removed theirs as well. Not wanting to be spotted easily the vampires did the same. "He brought my child back from the beyond. My child is now eternal!"   
William whispered, "You sure they're not -"  
"Shhh," Darla interrupted him. "I want to hear this."  
William rolled his eyes while Angelus gave him an angry stare. Drusilla was watching in fascination, her eyes shinning with a childish happiness.   
The crowd applauded as the mother reached out for her child. As the boy was raised in her arms, the four vampires noticed the long cut along the neck of the boy. The wound left a bloody trail across his mother's orange dress, staining it. The boy smiled, his teeth covered in blood from the heart he had bitten into and still held in one of his small hands. The organ slipped from his grip landing on the floor. The child put his hands around his mother's neck. Suddenly, he bit into it. A desperate cry escaped her as the child dug into her flesh, devouring the being that had given him life. The crowd had frozen. And then the silence was broken by the laughter of the other children, so sweet and crystal-like.   
A slim figure detached from the crowd, pointing a knife towards the child's neck.  
"Let her go," she demanded.  
"It's the slayer," William whispered to the rest.  
"Well, you won't get a chance to kill this one," Darla said knowingly.  
"Why?" William asked like a stubborn child. Suddenly a little girl sprung from her place behind the curtain, biting into the wrist of the slayer. The knife fell from her hand and she let out a small scream of surprise before hitting the child still hanging from her hand across the face. A demonic smile crossed the child's face, as she refused to release the slayer's now bleeding wrist from her grip.   
"That's why," Darla said sighing.  
"At least they can't say we killed this one," Angelus said admiring the show as the slayer was hitting the child hanging from her wrist into the wall, having no success at all in freeing herself. Her watcher appeared from the crowd; apparently he had only noticed the happenings now. He grabbed the knife that had fallen from his pupil's hand and stabbed the little girl in the back, accomplishing nothing. "Hopefully there'll be a worthier one next time. One I'd actually want to kill myself."  
"There's going to be a new one? Already?" William was thrilled at the prospect.   
"The moment that child's going to..." Darla started, but her words faded as the little girl biting into the slayer's wrist propelled herself up the body of the girl, with unnatural movements, towards her neck, biting into her cheek with her already bloodstained mouth. The slayer cried out in pain. At the same time, the boy dropped the corpse of his mother to the floor and the other children stood up and hummed a cheerful little song along with him. The crowd had begun to move, snapping out of their shock, and searching for a way to escape. In their rush, they crushed people and glass under their feet, as hysteria began overwhelming them. Only the foursome of vampires had stayed, observing the spectacle with cold stares. As the people reached the doors, they realized they were shut, leaving them trapped inside.   
"Well surprise, surprise," Darla said, taking a sip from the wine glass she had managed to save when the crowd had mobilized. Desperate screams were heard at the realization. Women pulled their hair, scratched at the doors, while men tried their strength at opening the large wooden doors, not managing to even budge them.  
Back in the main hall, as the people knocked into the walls, screaming or trying to reach the high windows or find another exit, the children just watched with evil little smiles on their faces, still humming songs. The slayer was dead by now, her corpse crushed under the feet of the moving crowd, a large cavity bitten into her cheek and the bone of her wrist showing, as her wounds still bled on the thick carpet. Her watcher wasn't far from her; the panicking mass of people had pushed him into the wall and into an iron torch holder that was now sticking out of his chest.  
A constant, loud, humming sound had taken over the - until now - cheerful singing of the children. The sound drove the people into an even bigger sense of desperation.  
"I smell fear. So much of it," Drusilla said, almost joining in the humming of the demon children, a vibe seeming to want to possess her body and bring her into the game the dead children were playing.   
Then the children seemed to rise off the floor and move with such an incredible speed across the room, attacking people randomly while they searched for an escape.   
"This was an interesting night," Angelus smirked. "We saw a slayer die and now a massacre. Exquisite."  
"It's so pretty," Dru said dreamily. She began fidgeting like a little girl wanting something. William noticed and she knew he understood what she wanted. "Can we, my love?"  
"Oh, what the hell! Might not be my glory night, but I'm at least getting some action," William said and Drusilla clapped her hands happily as he lead her into the frenzy of flesh devourers. They seemed to be rocks in a river of people. They ripped, killed and devoured who they wanted, not minding that their clothes were getting stained or torn from their bodies.   
At one point one of the children attacked William from behind, biting into his neck.  
"Bloody hell!" He yelled as he flipped the small girl over his shoulder and threw her into a wall, ripping flesh off his own shoulder as he did. With his flesh still hanging out of her mouth, the girl stood up and spit.   
"You taste bad!" She said in a whiny, childish voice. "Like crippled old corpses!"  
"Oh, yeah? I bet you're not a treat yourself!" William replied, but the child wasn't interested in him anymore as she turned her head towards a young girl who had run right by her. "Oh, hell!" William let out feeling the wound on his neck. Drusilla appeared out of nowhere licking it clean and sharing a dirty, bloodied smile with him before pulling him back into the crowd.   
Darla and Angelus stood aside, watching the blood spill under their eyes.   
"Think there's anyone important still left out there?" Darla asked looking up towards a window. A hand was thrown her way, barely missing her, landing on the floor instead. She looked down at it and let out an unnecessary sigh. Angelus held out his hand. Darla took it, crushing the dead hand under her heel as she walked.   
"I bet the magistrate's still home. Slumping in his chair," Angelus said and then looked into the crowd. "There's his daughter though," he added gesturing towards a woman screaming as a child ripped the hair from her skull. Noticing their stares, the woman made desperate gestures for them to help her. Angelus waved as if she had waved at them. Darla gave him a smile.   
"Ah yes, the good old magistrate. The man is almost a saint. He wouldn't be caught dead at an unholy reunion like this," Darla said smiling at Angelus, sharing their little joke. "So, join me for dinner?"  
"I'd love to," Angelus returned the smile as they jumped up to a tall window, still holding hands. A woman threw herself at them, catching Darla by the shoe. The vampire looked down at her annoyed.  
"Please help me!" The woman yelled desperately.   
"Goodbye now," Angelus told her before hitting her in the face with his foot. The woman crashed back down into the hall, landing over a half-eaten corpse. She tried to stand up, but was thrown back down by Drusilla.   
On the now almost abandoned streets of Vienna, a lonely couple walked serenely, not minding the horrible screams coming from somewhere distant, barely heard that could easily be confused with the doings of a whorehouse. They smiled at each other as they continued to walk towards a large and imposing house at the end of the road. A small light shone from one of its windows and the shadow of an old man lingered somewhere inside.  
  
End 


End file.
